The blacked-out SUV pulls up to The Eclipse Tower just after midnight. Noah is half-asleep in my arms, his little body heavy and trusting against my chest, dinosaur dangling from one hand. Damien hasn’t spoken a word since we left my apartment. He just sits across from us like a king who’s collected his misplaced property.
His men carried our pathetic suitcases upstairs without a single question. Everything I owned now feels small and cheap inside his world.
We step into the penthouse, and the scent hits me like a slap. Eclipse. Dark sandalwood, black pepper, smoked vanilla—everywhere. It clings to the air, to the furniture, to him. My stomach twists with memories I’d rather burn.
“Third floor is yours,” Damien says, voice low and commanding as he leads us down a wide, dimly lit hallway. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing strong forearms, and the top buttons of his shirt are open. He looks too powerful. Too dangerous in his own space.
Noah stirs, blinking up at the unfamiliar luxury. Crystal lights, modern art that probably costs more than my entire life, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the glittering city below. His gray eyes widen.
“Mommy… are we in a castle?”
I force a soft smile and kiss his forehead. “Something like that, sweetheart. We’re staying here for a little while.”
Damien stops walking. He turns slowly, gaze locking on Noah with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. For a long moment, he just stares. Cataloging. The dark hair. The shape of the jaw. Those storm-gray eyes that mirror his own so perfectly it hurts.
He crouches down in front of my son, moving with surprising gentleness for a man built like a weapon.
“Hey, little man,” he says, voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it. “What’s your name?”
“Noah,” my son answers shyly, clutching Rex tighter. “And this is Rex. He’s brave.”
Damien’s jaw flexes. He reaches out and gently touches one of the dinosaur’s worn wings. “Rex looks like a strong protector. You take care of your mom?”
Noah nods solemnly. “Always. She has bad dreams sometimes.”
Something dark flickers across Damien’s face—jealousy, suspicion, hunger. He glances up at me, eyes hard. “Cute kid. Must take after his father.”
The words are a blade wrapped in silk. I feel them cut.
“He takes after me,” I say flatly, pulling Noah closer.
Damien rises to his full height, towering over both of us. The air grows thicker. “Of course he does. Must be one hell of a man to get you to settle down after running from me.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. The jealousy radiating off him is palpable, even if he’s trying to hide it behind that cold mask.
He shows us to the guest suite—two connected rooms with a small terrace overlooking the city. It’s bigger than our entire apartment. Noah’s eyes light up at the massive bed, but he still clings to my hand.
Once Noah is tucked in, story read twice, and finally drifting off, I step out into the main living area, closing the door softly behind me.
Damien is waiting.
He stands by the windows, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, watching me like I’m prey that just walked back into his trap. The scent of him is stronger here, wrapping around me, dragging me back to nights when I used to bury my face in his neck and feel safe.
“You moved fast,” I say, crossing my arms.
“I don’t waste time on what belongs to me.” He sets the glass down and stalks closer. “That boy… he has eyes like mine.”
My heart stutters. “Lots of people have gray eyes.”
He stops inches away. Too close. Heat rolls off his body. “Who’s the father, Elena? Some weak b4_stard who couldn’t keep you satisfied?”
“None of your business,” I whisper, but my voice wavers.
His hand comes up, fingers brushing my jaw, tilting my face up to his. “Everything about you is my business now. Thirty days. You sleep under my roof. You breathe my air. You stand by my side like you never left.”
I should push him away. Instead, my body leans in, traitorous and starved. His lips hover over mine, breath mingling. So close. The pull is magnetic, toxic, inevitable.
“Damien…” I breathe.
For one heartbeat, I think he’s going to kiss me. Claim me right here against the glass.
Then his expression hardens. He pulls back sharply, dropping his hand like I burned him.
“Sleep well, little ghost,” he says, voice cold and cruel. “And remember—this isn’t a reunion. It’s a cage. One you walked into willingly.”
He turns and walks away without another word, leaving me trembling against the window, lips still tingling from a kiss that never came.
The scent of Eclipse lingers long after he’s gone.
Welcome home.
—
To be continued…….